


stigmata

by golden_geese



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: M/M, TW: Body Image Issues, also: fic contains non-graphic allusions to sex, and it is mostly ronald mcdonald woobie angst, but imo there are a lot of Unacknowledged Issues in season 7!!!, but there is absolutely nothing wrong w his soft arms n cute cheeks n stuff!!, i love mac n i want him to be happy :(, i think fat mac is ADORABLE, including:, inspired by a tumblr post, mac and dennis were banging in s5, mac knows he let himself go and "tacking on mass" is a front, see my /fics page on my tumblr for more info on that, this fic is basically a compilation of a bunch of the headcannons i subscribe to, this takes place right after the jersey shore episode (7.02)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 22:37:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16752760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_geese/pseuds/golden_geese
Summary: in 2009 dennis was all over mac. in 2009 they were almost in love with each other. 2011 is a far fucking cry from 2009. or; dennis and mac almost deal with their feelings.





	stigmata

It’s not 2009 anymore. 

Like magic, their Thing began on December 31, 2008. Like magic, they were drunk, alone, laughing, listening to music. It started with a new year’s kiss, but it ended with welcoming the new year in soft darkness, exploring each other, toasty warm on Mac’s unmade bed even though it was snowing outside. Of course it wasn’t the first time they Had Sex, but it was the first time they, gross, Made Love. And it was _good_. It was fucking great. It was all kisses and gasps and hands on each others’ shoulders and nice words whispered into each others’ ears.

(Even though Mac had been completely present in the moment, completely aware of every breath Dennis took, he still had the thought: _this is just because we’re drunk._ )

But then, like magic, when they woke up on January 1, 2009, tangled up in each other-- Dennis gave him a sleepy grin and started kissing him all over again. And, like magic, it continued. Carried them into February. March. April. May. June July August September October. Hugh Honey and Vic Vinegar. Failed road trip to the Grand Canyon. Paddy’s dollars. The intervention thing. The time Mac and Dennis made Charlie that online dating profile (a day when, especially, Mac felt like Dennis’ boyfriend). The world series trial. The birds of war thing. The dick towel thing. November-- Dee figured it out. Dee was taunting them. The video store clerk guy. Jealousy. Space. Staying at Charlie’s. That make-up dinner-- they went home after and Dennis started kissing him, but Mac stopped him for the only time ever. Said shit was getting a little gay. Said let’s go back to how things used to be. Dennis nodded. Dennis went to bed alone. Dennis broke out the D.E.N.N.I.S system again. Mac went back to lapping up his leftovers. 

It’s not 2009 anymore in other ways too. He can’t remember the last time he shaved. He’s lost track of how many Oreos he’s eaten today. He can’t get any of his old pants to zip. Dennis won’t look at him for more than a second now.

Yeah. 2011 fucking sucks.

He hears Dennis unlocking the door. Quickly puts the Oreos away. Wipes his hands on his pants. 

Dennis takes his time coming in and taking his shoes off. Glances over to regard his roommate.

“You’re sunburnt,” he says, raising his eyebrows. But not in a concerned way. In a snooty way, a movement that almost has Mac apologizing for being such an inconvenience and such an idiot because fuck what kind of loser gets himself sunburnt? 

“Yeah,” he says instead. “From when we were at the Jersey Shore a couple days ago.”

“Hmph,” Dennis exhales, coming into the kitchen to get a beer. He doesn’t offer Mac one. 

Mac catches the fridge door as it’s shutting. Grabs himself one. Cracks it open.

“Where’ve you been?” Mac asks, tone suggesting he doesn’t actually give a shit.

“None of your business,” Dennis says simply. Walks past Mac, leaning to the side so their shoulders won’t brush against each other.

“I was just curious, I don’t actually care,” Mac huffs.

Dennis half-shrugs. Sits down on the couch. Turns the TV on.

They had a really nice time together a week or two ago. The Tommy Bahama shirts and the Mexican food and the half-assed quest for crack. They’d smiled and laughed and looked each other in the eye. 

(He can’t remember the last time they so much as kissed, though. Can’t remember the last movie night when Dennis’ hand casually ended up on Mac’s thigh. Not that it matters.)

( _It doesn’t matter._ )

He gulps his beer.

“Don’t do that,” Dennis snaps, not bothering to look at Mac over his shoulder.

“Do what, dude?”

“ _Gulp_ your beer like that.”

Mac blinks. “How’d you even hear from across the room?”

Dennis huffs. “Believe me, I wish I didn’t hear every single annoying sound you make, but I do.”

“Dude, why are you in such a bad mood? Why are you being such a jerk to me? I didn’t do shit to you.”

“Ugh, can we not do this right now? Can we please not do this right now? I’m tired,” Dennis says.

“I just don’t get it. You used to like… I dunno. Be nice to me.” Even as Mac says it, the words feel stupid. 

“Oh, no, it’s the end of the world because Dennis doesn’t suck my dick anymore,” Dennis imitates, ripping the tab off his beer can and chucking it across the room. “Your life is _so hard_ , you might as well be fucking Jesus nailed to the cross, huh? Can’t do anything in this fucking house without Jesus on a cross staring you down.”

“Dennis,” he says, blinking, frowning, stepping back even though he’s several feet away from his roommate and they aren’t even facing each other.

“What.”

He stares at the back of Dennis’ head. Notices how soft and wavy his hair looks today. His haircuts are always so neat, leaving a crisp line at the back of his neck-- he has a nice neck. Strong, straight, long-- it runs gracefully into the top of his spinal cord. Dennis is beautiful. Dennis is always beautiful. Even when he’s angry or being an asshole.

“What, Mac?” Dennis demands, turning around. His eyes are dull. Even from this far away, Mac can tell.

“I just don’t get it,” Mac says, voice a little quieter. “What the fuck did I do to you, man?”

Dennis rolls his eyes. Turns around. “Nothing. Forget about it.”

Mac scratches his beard. It’s borderline too long, he thinks. He didn’t really grow it on purpose. It just kind of happened. His hair is longer too. He hasn’t gelled it back in a while.

(He feels pretty shitty about how he looks, he realizes.)

“Fine,” he says. “Whatever, Dennis.” He finishes his beer. Crumbles the can in his fist. Throws the mass of aluminum at the garbage can-- misses. Doesn’t bother going over to pick it up and throw it away properly, even though he usually would.

He walks past the couch and goes into his room and shuts the door. If Dennis wants to be cold, he thinks, two can play at that game.

Mac sighs. Sits down on the side of his bed. Tries not to notice how his body strains against his tee shirt. He needs to stop wearing old clothes. Not like he can afford a bunch of new ones, though. Those thrift store Hawaiian shirts are pretty much going to have to suffice.

(Maybe Dee was right when she called him fat about a million times at the beach a couple days ago. At the very least, Mac knows he’s just putting up a front when he insists that he’s tacked on mass and it’s all muscle. He remembers when she was pregnant last year and he made fun of her with the guys. Almost feels bad about it. At least she had an excuse. He doesn’t. He knows he doesn’t.)

He hears Dennis clear his throat in the living room.

He closes his eyes. Prays hard for a long time. Runs his thumb over the spine of his Bible. Focuses on the prayer.

He opens his eyes. Still the closed door. Still the ambient sound of Dennis watching crime shows. If it were 2009, the closed door wouldn’t be an issue. He’d just wander out to the living room and sit on the couch-- and within a few minutes, like a cat, Dennis would be draped all over him somehow. His head on Mac’s lap, or his hand on Mac’s thigh, or leaning against Mac’s shoulder. Something. Now, Mac thinks, if he goes out there and sits down next to Dennis, Dennis would probably just get up and leave.

He almost doesn’t even feel like his prayer was heard. 

Mac takes a deep breath. Pushes his hair back. Stands up (ignores the way the mattress creaks) and heads to the door. When he opens it, Dennis is already staring at him.

“Dennis,” he says.

“Yeah.”

He exhales. “Look. I know you’re in a bad mood or whatever and I’m sorry. But I gotta… look, dude, you’re my best friend or whatever, I can’t talk to Charlie about this shit, I don’t _wanna_ talk to him about it…”

Face blank, Dennis turns the TV off. Pats the couch next to him slowly. 

Mac nods. Heads over to sit down. Is careful to not touch Dennis.

“What?”

“Uh-- I know we, like, it’s--” He swallows. “So like obviously we’re just, like, friends. And roommates.”

“Yeah,” Dennis agrees emotionlessly.

“But we both know that we bang and stuff. I mean sometimes. When we’re drunk or like, really horny.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And you always say nice things to me when we do. That you like my body.”

Dennis is biting his lip. He isn’t denying it, but he’s also not not-denying it.

“But I feel like you’re kind of disgusted by me now because I tacked on mass,” Mac says, words falling out all at once, hurrying into the air so the fact that he said that will be in the past as soon as possible.

Dennis straightens his neck. Mac gets the feeling that if Dennis were wearing a tie, he would be adjusting it.

“What makes you think that?”

“You’re mean to me and you avoid looking at me,” Mac suggests, feeling stupid for even thinking these things.

“I’m always mean to you,” Dennis dismisses. 

“Not this much, dude. Not every day. Not without being nice to me again a little bit later.”

Dennis blows air out of his nose. “Alright. What do you want me to do? Apologize?”

“Nah, you won’t mean it,” Mac says. “Whatever, bro. Just forget I brought it up. Doesn’t matter. Let’s watch Finding Bigfoot or something.” He reaches for the remote.

Dennis smacks it out of his hand. 

“Dude, what the fuck, this is exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I’m not disgusted by you,” Dennis says plainly. “I think the same of you as I always have. Okay? Is that good enough for you?”

“...Yeah, man. Thanks.”

“Now can we stop talking about your _feelings_?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Of course,” Mac says, shaking his head dismissively as if the whole thing was stupid and trivial. 

Dennis turns the TV back on. Leans back against the couch.

Mac tries to pay attention to the show, but he can kind of feel his heart beating in his chest. It’s distracting. But it’s more distracting when, a moment later, Dennis puts his hand on Mac’s thigh.

**Author's Note:**

> psa: this isn't cute or romantic, it's a Bad Relationship Dynamic! it is v unhealthy!! we ain't glorifying shit here. more at golden-geese.tumblr.com :)


End file.
